Pain Hurts

I'd thought I'd experienced pain before but the past week or so has really taken the cake. And I've been sick a lot longer than that. Did you guys know that I have, essentially, been bedridden for almost five weeks? Yes, that's right. The last week of January I quit Paxil and it knocked me on my ass. I felt okay in my mind but the body, she was not so good. Then Penny died. I hauled myself off the couch to care for her during her last week, and I am grateful that I was able to rally a bit for that--but not much. Most of the time, Tom just put Penny on the bed with me, and we were together that way. I did go out and help to do the work of burying her. That is very important to me. Then Bessie went in for surgery to remove two giant cancerous tumors that she had been trying to excise herself. It was truly revolting. I don't even want to describe it. Oh, and I was busy having a miscarriage at the time. Then, Ripple--my sweet, special friend--died. As soon as the miscarriage was over I felt physically well enough to care for her, and thank God illness didn't rob me of my last few days with her. She was truly, desperately special, and I can't talk or type about her death the way I could with Penny. Maybe next week.

Ripple's death sent me into a tailspin and I began having "heart attacks" about 24 hours after doing the work to bury her. So, last Saturday began the worst of it. As I said, I have been in bed about 20 of 24 hours/day since the final week of January. Atrophy happens fast, and it hurts. I'd staved it off pretty well until last Saturday when my guts revolted against me (long dull explanation eliminated for your sake, trust me). Basically, a combination of drugs combined with stress to cause my esophagus to basically...spaz out.

You know, you're constantly swallowing. Every time liquid--even my own saliva--passed through my esophagus it spasmed like a crazy thing. That is the conclusion the doctors have come to. Spasmed like, grab your chest and scream out in pain kind of spasm. It was horrible. You can imagine what eating or drinking felt like. I kept telling myself, "Hey, anorexics live like this for fun!" but you know what? Anorexics aren't thirsty all the time. They can drink whatever they want.

Typing about all this is causing me stress. I am on a strict no-stress regimen. I've got to quit telling about this now. I was lucky this morning, and got to eat a little with only minimal pain. I feel bad about just stopping my story in the middle, but...BYE.